


you got my future in your hands

by ForASecondThereWedWon



Series: Spidey-shots, Spidey-shots, now they're done, thanks a lot <3 [42]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dad!Peter Parker, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Hospitals, Kid Fic, Parenthood, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, married!Spideychelle, mom!Michelle Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForASecondThereWedWon/pseuds/ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary: Spidey business calls Peter away at the worst time, but his family's waiting for him when he returns.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spidey-shots, Spidey-shots, now they're done, thanks a lot <3 [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1368034
Comments: 24
Kudos: 89
Collections: The Spideychelle Shuffle





	you got my future in your hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spidermanhomecomeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spidermanhomecomeme/gifts).



> Based on the following lyrics from "Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours" by Stevie Wonder:
> 
> _Then that time I went and said goodbye/Now, I'm back and not ashamed to cry/Ooo baby, here I am_

Frantic, Peter sprints down the halls of the hospital. God, he always gets lost in this place, even though he’s been here a bunch between personal injuries and transporting victims of violent crime. Every hallway seems long and low, claustrophobic as a tunnel, after sailing high above Manhattan, propelled by the flick of his wrist. And the wings! The wings of this hospital are all named after people Peter’s never heard of! He assumes they’re donors, but that guess doesn’t help him determine whether this floor’s for eyes, ears, or open-heart surgery. His thoughts are too fast and scattered to think of stopping to ask for help. He needs to get to MJ.

Some combination of a miracle and his Spidey-senses takes him to the right place.

“Michelle Jones,” he says to the nurse behind the desk.

“And are you…”

She looks up from her computer screen and her eyes go wide. Oh, right. Peter whips off the Spider-Man mask.

“I’m her husband.”

The nurse is giddy as she hustles around the desk and leads him down the hallway. He can’t see her face, but he can feel her self-importance as she exchanges glances with every one of her colleagues they pass. Yeah, yeah, yeah, she’s the lucky one who got to escort Spider-Man. Normally, he’d be game for posing for a picture or signing an autograph, but he can’t even manage a smile. At least the nurse’s pace is brisk. Maybe showing up without stopping to change clothes was a good idea after all. Logically, the public _knows_ Peter Parker is Spider-Man and yet Peter Parker doesn’t get more than a curious glance when a cashier reads the name on his credit card while Spider-Man has some serious clout. When he’s focused enough to use it.

“Right in here, sir.”

She beams at him, but Peter barrels straight past and into the private white room. His wife is asleep on the bed and once he’s taken a careful look at her expression and tranquil body language, his gaze slips over to the transparent-walled cot next to the bed. He drops his mask by the lump MJ’s feet make under the blanket and walks dreamlike to the world’s newest, teeniest Friend of Spider-Man.

He doesn’t want to wake this little person any more than he wants to wake the beloved MJ they now share between them―forever and ever―but when he looks down at the small, round face, the brown eyes are open. He’s curious as to how much curly hair is hiding under the snug yellow hat that covers his baby’s head.

“Ok,” he whispers down, “but we gotta let Mom rest.”

Carefully, Peter scoops up the soft, warm lump of swaddled baby and perches on the edge of the hospital bed.

“ _There_ ,” he says softly, smiling so his baby won’t misunderstand the tears rolling down his cheeks. Not that he really knows whether babies know too much about identifying emotions, but this one’s half MJ, so the intuition’s probably off the charts.

His wife shifts behind him; her hand rests lightly against his back. Peter glances at her and she _tsk_ s at his tears, brushing them from his cheeks with her thumb.

“A girl,” she says.

“A _girl_.” He says the word like a girl has never existed before and stares lovingly into their daughter’s face. Those eyelids are getting heavy.

When MJ rubs his back, Peter twists and passes the baby, unsure where to hold as his wife tucks her into the crook of her arm.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he tells the two of them.

“May and Ned were here. They went for coffees.”

“Well, you coulda been a little more considerate with the timing, sweetheart. It’s almost four in the morning.” MJ smiles up at him, lifting her free hand to loosen the hair that’s been plastered to his head by his mask. The metal of her ring touches his forehead and Peter chokes up. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

“You didn’t miss anything, loser. Anyway, I see she waited up for you.”

They both glance down to watch their daughter yawn and sink into immediate sleep, ready to rest now that she’s assured herself that the people who love her are ok. Peter wonders where she gets it from.


End file.
